Ice Queen
by Supercilium
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a young girl who's heart was cold as ice. Her entire life had been spent training to win the Hunger Games. When the 64th Hunger Games rolled around, it was finally her year to represent District 1 in the games. And she will stop at nothing to win. OC.


So, yeah, this is my first fanfiction.

Hope you like it.

Obviously, I don't own the Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins does.

Thanks to Morganellie and my sister for helping me edit it and stuff.

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"Look over there, the Ice Queen's finally arrived…"

"Look at her; she thinks that she's so amazing."

"Hmph, as if. When will she realize no one likes her?"

"Shut up, you guys, she'll hear us!"

The Ice Queen's head did not turn towards that group of insignificant gossips as she passed. She actually thought it was adorable. Driven by jealousy, they wanted nothing more than to hurt her. When would _they _realize that she didn't care what they thought? They were nothing more to her than former classmates, former classmates who had never been good enough.

She, on the other hand, _was_ good enough. In fact, she was better than good enough. She was amazing. Spectacular. Perfect. She smugly told herself this every morning in the mirror.

It was not her fault she was better than them. She was just born like that.

And as a matter of fact, she was saving them. Saving them from some horrific death within the Games. Had she not entered District 1's Tribute Academy all those years ago, one of those pathetic females would be dead in a week or two.

In reality, they should all be thanking her.

They did not thank the Ice Queen. When they finally made their way over to the section of seventeen year old females, they merely shot her snotty looks.

Their looks made the Ice Queen want to cackle, but she contained her amusement, as a woman called Ambrosia was waddling up to the center of the stage.

The escort for District 1 was quite the sight. And that was putting it lightly.

Ambrosia was a very short woman who was also very plump. This gave her a very round visage. Because she insisted upon wearing heels that were about a foot tall, she constantly waddled and shuffled, looking more like an animal trying to walk on their hind legs rather than a human.

Ambrosia's skin was dyed to match the color of a rainbow. Her hair, which was short and cropped to her head, was cyan blue and glittered in the morning sun.

Although she may have seemed freakish to those of District 1, the entire Capital saw Ambrosia as one of the most fashionable people alive. Whatever Ambrosia did or wore suddenly became a huge trend within the Capital.

This year, Ambrosia seemed to be dressed as a pear. The suit she wore was a light yellow like Ambrosia's own, cat-like eyes. She wore a matching hat on her head. It was tilted slightly and had huge white plumes erupting from it.

When Ambrosia's silly accent began to fill the town square, the Ice Queen allowed herself to drift away. After all, she had heard this same speech countless times before and rarely did it change.

For the first time in a long time, she began to daydream. She saw herself fighting valiantly against the final tribute standing in her way to victory. The tribute and she were evenly matched, but she eventually won out, knocking the tribute's sword from his hands.

Shock would fill the tribute's eyes, followed by fear. They would realize these were their final moments, their last breaths.

The Ice Queen wanted nothing more than to watch the tribute fall to their knees and beg. Beg for their pathetic little life.

She would lift her foot and kick them squarely in their chest, knocking them onto their backs.

They would begin to cry, she really wanted them to cry.

She'd run her spear over their face gently, shushing them like a mother would to their child.

But then she'd draw blood, cutting deeply into their cheek.

She'd watch the blood flow for a moment, just a moment, and listen to the ear-splitting screams of the tribute.

The tribute's life would continue for hours.

But eventually, boredom would set in. The Ice Queen would smile a smug smile down at the tribute (a smile they would not be able to see). The Ice Queen would say in a cold, callous voice, "Better luck next time," before burying her spear in the tribute's chest.

And she would be the victor, the glorious music of trumpets would fill her ears and –

"Now, let us begin with the ladies."

Suddenly, she snapped back into reality. She focused her jade eyes on the Ambrosia's rainbow hand, watching the plump, almost swollen thing lower into the glass bowl of names.

And as the hand rustled about within the papers, the Ice Queen could feel her heart pumping. Not with fear or nerves, but with a rush of excitement.

Ambrosia settled on a sheet of paper towards the bottom of the bowl and began to hoist her arm up.

Her entire life had been leading up to this moment.

This moment was going to change her entire life.

Ambrosia unfolded the paper delicately and brought it close to her face so she could read it.

She could picture it.

Her name ringing through the town square, every eye in the country on her.

Ambrosia cleared her throat in the most outlandish, obnoxious way possible.

"Get on with it," the Ice Queen felt like shouting. Everyone knew it was her year.

The silly voice of Ambrosia rang out through the town square.

"Velvet Cilious!"

The rush of excitement immediately faded within the Ice Queen.

That was not her name.

Annoyance set in quickly.

Around her, there was confusion. The peacekeepers, who were used to doing little during this ceremony, were among the most baffled.

Eventually, the reaped girl was found hiding within the thirteen year olds. Peacekeepers lead her up to the stage where Ambrosia hugged her tightly. "Well, aren't you just the cutest, little thing!" Ambrosia said to the girl as if the girl was nothing more than a puppy.

The Ice Queen's venomous jade eyes feasted upon the girl.

The girl was small and weak, obviously not a student at the Academy. She was sickly pale and had long, brown hair in braided pigtails. The girl looked as if she was going to vomit, which would have amused the Ice Queen were she not so angry her thunder had been stolen.

Ambrosia cleared her throat again. "Now," she began, "Would anyone like to volunteer to take the place of Miss Velvet?"

The only arm that rose in the air was the pale and freckled arm of the Ice Queen.

"Oh, we have a volunteer, how lovely!" Ambrosia exclaimed.

The Ice Queen watched as the little girl seemed to breathe a sigh of relief before being ushered off the stage. The Ice Queen turned to her right, smoothed her frilly pink dress and watched as the other seventeen year old girls shuffled around, parting for her. With a confident smirk on her face, the Ice Queen began her walk to the stage.

Every movement was natural for the girl. She'd been preparing for this moment for years, even the idea of being watched by all of Panem had no effect on her. She took large, confident strides up to the stage, walking at a precisely calculated speed that allowed cameras to get countless angles on her, but also showed she was neither weak nor dainty.

When she reached the stage, her pink shoes produced a clacking sound which could be heard over the dying cheers of the crowd.

Ambrosia turned to the crowd and shushed them before she faced the Ice Queen. Her lips, which were surgically altered to be shaped like a heart, were curled up into a dainty smile. "This is such a pleasure!" she said, giggles erupting from her enormous throat, causing her to jiggle slightly, "Now, love, what is your name?"

The Ice Queen looked directly into the camera. Her eyes were cold, but had cocky twinkle to them. Her gaze told Panem that they were being given the privilege to gaze upon their next victor. Her gaze showed everything she was capable of, how she was going to kill every single person that entered the arena with her. Her cocky smirk dripped with confidence, telling the other tributes that there was absolutely nothing they could do to stop her from killing them.

"My name is Saffron Yfelle." The Ice Queen stated, each of her words seeming to hang in the air where they oozed confidence.

"Oh, Saffron! What a lovely name that is!" Ambrosia said, hugging the Ice Queen. The hug startled Saffron, but she managed to keep her composure. When Ambrosia finally released her, she looked at Saffron with expectant eyes. She was not sure what the large woman wanted, so she merely smiled at her.

The smile seemed to satisfy Ambrosia, who turned her attention back to the crowd. "What a doll!" she said, giggling and jiggling again. "I think it is about time we move on to our young men."

Saffron was not surprised when Ambrosia's voice rang throughout the square and clearly stated, "Plush Frivos!" She had known exactly who her district partner would be since the year prior, when the Academy announced the future tributes and their alternates. Saffron knew everything important about him. She knew Plush's strengths and his weaknesses, she knew his tactics and his angles. He would present no challenge for her.

But, as her jade eyes watched him being sauntering up to the stage, she realized she had forgotten some very important things about him. Plush Frivos was attractive. He had great hair; beautiful dark brown curls that made you want to run your hands through them. He had a smile that seemed to speak directly to you, telling you that you are pretty and that Plush will fuck you maybe. He had the lightest gray eyes, eyes that were kind and full of light, directly in contrast to his dark hair. Even his nose was attractive. He had a rare and strong aquiline nose. He was muscular; one could tell by the way his muscles rippled even through his clothes.

She'd also forgotten about his natural charisma. He was great at talking and talking through his actions. Even in the way he sauntered up to the stage he told all of Panem that he was a cool, fun-loving guy who was awesome. And she'd forgotten how much everyone_ loved_ him. Even the boys he'd been in competition against since they'd all entered the Academy. Everyone called and hollered and cheered and clapped, harder than they had for Saffron.

Had there not been a camera watching her every move, she would have snarled.

Plush reached the stage and before Ambrosia could hug him, he hugged her. The two shared a precious little laugh after which Ambrosia placed her hand over her over-worked heart and giggled. "Isn't he just the most precious thing?" she asked the crowd before giggling again. "Would anyone like to volunteer to take the place of Mister Plush?"

Not a soul raised their hand.

Ambrosia somehow managed to jump up and down once, jiggling greatly. "Well, there you have it! Saffron Yfelle and Plush Frivos will represent District 1 in the 64th Hunger Games! Now," she cleared her throat, trying to sound official, "Please, shake hands."

With a fake smile, Saffron approached Plush. With her jade eyes, she looked directly into his blue ones. She saw something within them that she didn't like. Her eyes lowered to his smile, which seemed very genuine. Plush was a better actor than she'd thought.

Saffron stuck out her hand and Plush took it. Saffron expected nothing more than a simple handshake, but Plush decided to pull her into a hug. It was well received by Ambrosia and the crowd, even if Saffron was surprised. She did not let her face show it, though, and was forced to hug Plush back or risk coming off on a bad foot with the Capital.

The hugging made her want to puke.

"Good luck," came the smooth, buttery voice of Plush in her ear.

Saffron's chuckle was cruel and cold.

"I can't wait to wipe that smile off your face, pretty boy."

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So yeah.

Reviews and constructive criticism would be appreciated.

Next chapter will be uploaded shortly.


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